Peril in Istanbul
by SnowBird1452
Summary: The team flies off to Istanbul to face a new enemy. Sequel to Untitled but can stand alone.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Man From Uncle (other than on blu ray) and do not have any claim to the characters or stories that have been told previously. The only thing that's mine are the original characters and the new plot that I've dropped our heroes into. I am making no money off of this. It's purely written for my own enjoyment.

 **Author's Note:** To those of you who read my previous story, welcome back! For those of you who did not, just plain ole welcome. My other story is Untitled UNCLE Story- because I had zero idea what to call it. You by no means need to read that in order to read this. It's just my own little musings in terms of what happens in between scenes of the movie.  
This is a sequel to Man from Uncle and picks up right where the movie and my other story left off. Again, my story had a bit more of a flushed out ending to it, but you'll be fine if you've only seen the movie. No beta, just me. I read through things pre-posting numerous times in an attempt to find and fix any and all errors, but if you find some, my apologies.  
Last but not least, thanks for reading. I sincerely appreciate you checking out any of my stories. Obviously reviews or PMs are loved, so if you get a second after reading, drop me a line. Again, thank you and I hope you enjoy.  
-SB

* * *

"This is… different." The Russian spy looked around, his face giving away his apprehension as he and his teammates boarded the private jet that Waverly had arranged for them.

"You know, I wasn't sure I was going to like you Waverly, but I'm starting to think that this could be the beginning of a beautiful partnership," Solo smiled, pushing past Kuryakin and settling right into one of the large, plush seats. Shifting around in it, Napoleon nodded in approval. "Very nice."

Gaby came to a stop in between the giant Russian and their boss, looking over her sunglasses at Napoleon Solo. "How do you not have a headache?" she groaned, sliding her sunglasses back up her nose as she moved to sit across from him.

"One of the few things I take more seriously than fashion, Gaby dear, is good scotch." Shifting sunnily from Gaby to where Illya remained in the front of the plane, Solo gestured to the empty seat beside her. "Care to join us Peril, or will you be spending the entire flight standing up?"

Shaking his head, Illya moved past them and sat further back on his own. "I think he's still angry with us," Gaby breathed, closing her eyes and slumping back in her seat.

"No, he's angry with me. I'm fairly certain that to him, you can do no wrong. Even when he thought you'd stabbed him in the back yesterday he was barely holding it together when you came up," Napoleon said, not bothering to lower his voice. "Personally I think he thinks I'm trying to corrupt you."

"You are trying," Illya murmured, not bothering to look up from the page of the newspaper he'd picked up and started reading.

Rolling his eyes, Napoleon slid his sunglasses on. "You know what Gaby, I think you're right."

"About what?" she asked, her head tilting to the side as she looked through her polarized lenses.

"I feel a Peril sized headache coming on."

* * *

"So Waverly, what's the play?"

Waverly looked up from his newspaper to where Solo sat casually, his legs crossed out in front of him. "I was content letting you relax a while longer, but I suppose now is as good a time as any." Folding his paper and setting it on the seat next to him, Waverly took three folders out of his briefcase and stood, handing them out to each of his agents. "Just a bit of light reading."

"Kunter?" Illya murmured from his seat in the back of the plane.

"Why yes, Baris Kunter," Waverly said, nodding as he folded his hands together. "Are you familiar with him?"

Pursing his lips judgmentally, the Russian shrugged. "By status only." Holding up one of the glossy color photos from his folder, Illya gestured to a severed hand in a pool of blood. "I suppose you say his reputation precedes him."

"Ruthless, shrewd and power-hungry," Solo mumbled while he pulled out all the crime scene photos and slowly flipped through them. Gaby on the other hand was grimacing as she quickly maneuvered past the pictures, deciding one was enough for her to get the gist of what kind of man Kunter was. When her eyes left the page, Solo flashed her a sympathetic smile and a wink before returning to study his information.

"He's a terrible murderer, but where do we come in?" Gaby asked, looking to her boss. "He's a gangster. What do you want with him?"

"Well there are a few reason actually," Waverly breathed. "The first being he recently killed one of our agents on the inside."

Frowning, Gaby's eyes fell to where her folder sat open in her lap. "What happened?"

Shrugging, Waverly was acting calm and collected, but there was a storm behind his eyes. "We still don't know, but believe me when I say we are going to find out."

"Bauer?" Illya murmured, drawing everyone's attention as he scanned the newest page to his folder. "I am not familiar with this one."

"Strangely enough I am," Solo chuckled, his carefree attitude once again to the forefront. Grinning, Waverly gestured for him to continue. "He's a entitled little rich boy from our esteemed commander's homeland. I've had the displeasure of meeting him on a previous assignment."

"And your impression?" Gaby asked, raising a questioning eyebrow as she looked over his picture and noted that he was rather good looking.

Smirking, Solo leaned back in his chair. "While brief, I feel my observations were accurate, as they usually are. He's a complete prick but he struck me as relatively harmless- unless you're a woman, that is." Mouthing the word 'hands' to Gaby, Solo turned back to the rest of his team. "The real question here is what's he doing with a real deal guy like Kunter?"

"Kunter is an old friend from University actually," Waverly informed them.

"You're kidding?" Solo snorted, flipping to the next page in his folder. "Cambridge eh? Smart lads."

"Oh Kunter is very smart, make no mistake. Bauer on the other hand is more of what we like to call a legacy."

Her brow scrunching in confusion, Gaby sat up straighter in her chair. "What does that mean?"

"It means his daddy went there and he bought his son a place there too," Illya grumbled, his expression dark as he looked over his file at the rest of his team.

"Yes, well... they met at University and while they were never especially close- so far as we could tell- it appears their acquaintanceship has blossomed into quite the friendship," Waverly muttered, his expression sour. "That brings me to issue number two. Bauer is old money with lots of powerful connections. Kunter is currently a big fish in a rather small pond. While his range is growing, we are guessing he's using Bauer's influence to get into more of a global market."

"But what would Bauer possible get out of the relationship?" Solo asked. "He's a high society snob. I would think he would turn his nose up at someone like Kunter."

Waverly shook his head as he took a sip of his tea. "From what our remaining inside man tells us, Bauer lost a fair bit of money on a risky real estate gamble. While he is still wealthy, he has lost a few zeros and is looking to get those back and perhaps a few more."

"What better way to regain lost funds than making friends with an international arms dealer?" Solo said, shrugging. "I guess it's smart. Definitely a fast way to earn some real cash."

"It is real but it is dirty money," Illya grumbled under his breath, closing his folder. "These men are disgusting."

"Yes, yes they are," Waverly nodded in agreement, "but that's not the point. The point is that they are dangerous and-"

"Wait," Gaby said, holding up her hands as she entered the verbal fray. "If you still have another agent inside, why do you need us?"

"I need you, Gaby, because I don't want to jeopardize my agents position until there's an order given," Waverly said. "We can't do that with the limited information we have."

"We should kill Bauer," the Russian murmured, his arms crossing his chest. "Best to cut off the source of the money."

"No, unfortunately we need him alive," Waverly gave a small smirk, shaking his head. "It seems he has a bit of sensitive information about a royal and we'd very much like to keep that as quiet as possible."

Gaby snorted, rolling her eyes. "How convenient."

"I'm guessing that convenience is the point," Solo smiled over at his German friend. "With blackmail it generally is."

Gaby looked from her one partner to the other and saw his very serious, bitter expression and it made her frown in return. Turning to her boss, she tapped her finger on her copy of the file. "So what do we do?"

"I'm going to mix up the teams this time around. Solo, your name is William Murray. You're an associate of the Vinciguerra's. Well, you're actually the man who bought the bomb, or at least that's what you're going to make Kunter believe. Kunter and his associates were the Vinciguerra's middle men and got them most of the key components to make their nuclear weapon. Kuryakin, you're Peter Volkov, ex Russian mob and Mr. Murray's body guard."

"Oh, this is rich," Solo breathed, trying and failing to contain his smirk.

From his place towards the back of the plane, Illya's eye twitched in anger. "I am his body guard?"

Trying to keep his face light, Waverly gestured between the two of them. "Whatever squabble we're having, gentlemen, I'm going to need you to work it out or get over it. This mission is more important and if you cannot set aside your pride, I'll be sending you back to the U.S. and Russia and they can deal with your childishness how they see fit."

His words seem to sober them both up, their faces sliding into neutrality. "If we're working Kunter, what's Gaby doing?"

"Gaby will be working for Mr. Bauer," Waverly smiled, turning to her. "Well, you have an interview at least. Our inside agent secured you one tomorrow morning. It is very important that you get this job, Gaby. You will be a maid and kitchen help at his villa and it will give you virtually unrestricted access to his home. His home means important, secret business meetings, phone calls, documents... anything and everything you can get."

With all eyes on her, Gaby squirmed slightly. "I don't see how I'm going to get hired. I don't know the first thing about being a maid and I am a terrible cook."

"Well you won't need to cook," Waverly said, shrugging off her concern. "You will be doing very little in the kitchen. Washing a few dishes, cutting up some vegetables, pouring some glasses of wine; nothing too stressful, I assure you."

Sighing, she nodded. "I'll do my best."

"That's the spirit!" Waverly smiled, slapping his hand on his knee. "Now, lest I forget once we land, I feel the need to state that as of this moment we are strictly a recon team. That is all," Waverly breathed. "We want to get Kunter and Bauer if possible, but there are other agents at work here. We need to know who is working with Kunter and how he was able to acquire the Vinciguerra's items for their bomb. If HQ decides they want us to do more, they will send those orders along."

"Alright," Solo breathed, standing and moving to sit across from Illya.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled, looking offended by the move.

Rolling his eyes, Solo settled comfortably into his seat. "If you and I are going to partner up, we need to work a few things out, don't you think?"

"Like what?" Kuryakin hissed, eyeing the American skeptically.

"Like how did we meet? Why do I trust you?" Solo said, shrugging. "Why do you work for me? What's your backstory? How much do you know about the Russian mob that you're supposedly linked to?"

Tisking, Illya crossed his right leg over his left and set the folder down on the seat beside him. "I am Russian, so of course I know many things about the Russian mafia. Many more than you, Cowboy."

"What an excellent start," Napoleon said sarcastically, his eyebrows raised.

"We meet during the war. I saved your life. That is how we know each other, why I work for you and why you trust me," he said confidently. "My backstory is Russian special forces."

"That's all well and good, but I'm going to change just one small detail," Solo said, holding up a finger in front of them. "We met during the war; that works and is vague enough that no one will really care too much about the details. War is war and everybody gets that. I saved your life."

"Oh please," Illya scoffed, his arms crossing his chest.

"No, no- hear me out," Napoleon said, smirking. "I saved your life. You were drowning, actually. Gosh, I remember it like it was yesterday. The boat you were in was overtaken by enemy fire and sunk." From his place across from his American partner, the Russian's frown deepened, knowing where he was going with this. "I saw the whole thing happen. I could've very easily let you drown, but instead I drove in- heroically- and fished your giant body out of the water and dragged you to shore. You've been my right hand man ever since, refusing to leave my side due to the life debt you owe me."

"Life debt?" Running his tongue over his top teeth in irritation, Illya stared back, his eyes dangerously sharp. "If I recall, that debt was repaid."

"With Rudi?" Solo asked, pursing his lips dramatically in thought. "I don't know about that. I'd say I had him right where I wanted him."

"Oh, you did?" Illya asked, his eyes wide.

From his place across the aisle from Gaby, Waverly leaned over in his chair. "They are quite opposite, aren't they?"

"Yes and no." Gaby shrugged, sliding her sunglasses back on and settling deeper into the chair. "They're both incredibly stubborn. That much I know for sure."

Turning back to eye the two spies as they argued, Waverly sighed. "Bugger."


End file.
